


Glorious

by imaginationtherapy



Series: Shameless [11]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I don't even know how to tag this, It's so much...happier than my usual, M/M, Peter Jakes Didn't Leave Oxford, Promotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23232562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationtherapy/pseuds/imaginationtherapy
Summary: Peter Jakes felt glorious.He'd made it, through all the fights and the ghosts and the corruption and the bullets and the hatred. He had fought hard to be here, and now that he made it, it wasgloriousAnd nothing could take that from him.
Relationships: Peter Jakes/Endeavour Morse
Series: Shameless [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1340866
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Glorious

**Author's Note:**

> And so it begins...the Fic Flood brought on by the Pandemic.
> 
> Prepare yourselves for the onslaught...
> 
> Title based on [ Glorious ](https://youtu.be/1nXxPTsy5Gc) by Macklemore. Have a listen, if you want to be in the same mood that Peter Jakes is here.
> 
> Shameless timeline: very post _Stitches_ and _Here Comes the Sun_.

Jakes stared down at the piece of paper in his hand. A part of him couldn’t believe it was true, couldn’t believe that he had finally made it. But it was _true,_ and he was holding the proof. His name, his results, his _promotion_.

God, he had fought so hard for this. It seemed almost too easy now, too simple--this piece of paper too thin and too fragile for what it meant. 

_Redemption_ \--that was part of it. Redemption for his past, for the ghosts that still haunted him some nights. Redemption for everyone who looked down at him for what he was, for who he chose to love and live with. Redemption for the mistakes he had made, the times when he had run _away_ instead of towards--and for that _one time_ when he hadn’t been able to face his past and had almost lost his future.

Redemption, that’s what this paper meant. He--Peter Jakes--had proven himself. He had shown the world that he was stronger than all the troubles, the hate, the mud that it could sling at him. He’d _made it_ and God it felt...

_Glorious._

That’s what it felt like. _Glorious._ He wondered if this was what kings felt like when they had the crown set upon their head, or what those pop bands felt like when they stood in front of cheering crowds. Maybe even what those opera stars felt like, at the end of a performance.

_Glorious._

He’d made it, finally.

The sound of a key in the lock caught his attention. Jakes glanced at the paper, then folded it carefully and tucked it into his coat. He wouldn’t share, not just yet.

He had one more thing to try for, one more thing that had gotten tacked on to this dream of his somewhere in the past ten years.

One more dream.

* * *

A week later, the news had started to circulate around the nick, and Jakes still didn’t know if he’d won his final prize. He might not be able to keep his secret much longer--the higher ups were expecting him to start his new position _soon._

The glory hadn’t faded though, even if he didn’t get _this one thing_ . He’d gotten the biggest prize, and he stood straighter for it. Bought himself a new suit, shined his shoes, glared a little stronger at the PCs that scuttled to get out of his way. He had no intention of treating them how he’d been treated, but it didn’t hurt to exercise his authority. He knew the rumors that circulate around him--but were they rumors if they were _true?--_ and he knew the necessity of demanding respect.

It seemed to have worked, because the PC standing in front of him now looked downright _terrified._

“Sir? Uh, excuse me, sir?”

“What is it?” Jakes pulled out a cigarette and lit it, eyeing the young man. He shouldn’t enjoy this so much, the heady feel of authority, but _he did._

“Uh, the...the Chief Superintendent...he wants to see you, s-sir.”

Jakes’ attention sharpened. “Did he say what about?”

The young man shook his head. “No, sir.”

Jakes rolled his eyes. “Thank you. Oh and, uh--”

“Higgins, sir.”

“Higgins? You earned that uniform. Act like it.” Jakes spun on his heel and strode away, trying to hide the grin on his face. _Top dog, at last._

* * *

Jakes knocked on the door to the Superintendent’s office, and waited until he heard a familiar voice bid him enter.

“Sir? A PC said you wanted to see me?”

The CS looked up from his desk, the frown on his face melting into a wide smile. “Peter! Good, you made it in before Morse.”

Jakes grinned and perched on the edge of one of the chairs. He wasn’t sure exactly when they’d gone from _Jakes_ to _Peter,_ nor when the man in front of him stopped being his governor and turned into something much closer to _father._

He blamed Morse.

“McNutt’s no early riser,” Jakes said. “No matter how many times Dev tries, the man just _won’t_ hurry. Drives him insane, some days.”

Thursday smiled--that same warm smile, aged a bit like a fine wine--and stood. “Well, hopefully his next DI won’t have such poor habits.”

Jakes felt the world still around him. He knew, then.

There was bound to be a switch, times like these, he knew it and Morse knew it. There were rumors this time around that the station had to shed a few Sergeants, ones that hadn’t made it to Inspector yet. It made Morse nervous every time, and Jakes wasn’t much better. The days when Morse had been exiled out of City, they hadn’t been good days for either of them. They were both in a better place now, but still, Morse had been hoping he wouldn’t be transferred out. 

It was why Jakes took the risk, put in his own request.

“He’s...Dev’s been reassigned?” Jakes couldn’t stop the way his heart picked up speed.

Thursday nodded; his face gave away nothing. Then suddenly he broke into a grin.

“Congratulations, Detective Inspector Jakes. You’ve snagged your first bagman, and a pretty good one if I do say so myself.”

All the nervous energy rushed out of Jakes in one exhale. He sagged a bit on the chair, steadying his breathing.

“Don’t _scare_ me like that, sir.”

Thursday came around the desk. “Couldn’t resist a bit of melodrama, Peter.”

Jakes shook his head. “I really...I didn’t think they’d approve.” He stared up at Thursday.

“They owed me,” Thursday replied. “I won’t explain more than that, but I cashed in a few favors.”

“Sir--” Jakes pushed himself off the chair. “You shouldn’t, not for us, not for--”

Thursday laid one hand on Jakes’ shoulder. “I did it for the nick, Peter. You two always made a good team. And if I’m honest...he should be an Inspector by now.” Thursday’s expression darkened. “McNutt’s a good man, but he’s not pushing Morse, not the way he needs to overcome...well, you know. I’m counting on you to get him there, Jakes.”

Jakes grinned at him. “Part of my plan, sir.”

“Just part?”

Jakes ducked his head. “I’d rather keep an eye on him myself. You know that.”

“He needs it,” Thursday agreed. “He hasn’t managed to lose that attraction to danger, has he?”

Jakes shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Just last week--”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Thursday’s head jerked to the door. 

“That should be Morse,” he whispered.

Jakes nodded. He pushed himself off the chair, tried to tamp down the excitement fluttering through him. 

* * *

Morse entered, looking about as cheerful as a thundercloud. McNutt must have been in a mood then. 

“Wotcha, Dev.”

Jakes would never tire of watching the way Morse responded to him. The line of his shoulders would soften, the tension in his face would ease, and something bright would flash in his eyes. It took Jakes’ breath away, the fact that Morse responded to _him_ like that--that _he_ could do that to someone.

“Peter.” Just a word, but it wrapped around Jakes like an embrace.

Thursday’s voice interrupted them. “You’ve gotten your new assignment, Morse.”

Morse froze. He glanced at Jakes, then back at Thursday. “Sir?”

Thursday nodded, still staring studiously at the paper in front of him. “Results and transfers are in. I think you’ll like this one. He’s a new promotion, but a decent bloke.”

Morse made a strangled sound, and Jakes tried _hard_ not to laugh. Morse had little patience for most of those trying for Inspector this round. _Most_ of them, not all.

Thursday gave him a severe look. “He’s just what you need, mind. Should give you a kick to move up.” Thursday’s eyes flicked to Jakes’ for a moment, then back to Morse. “I’ve heard he’s less inclined to let his bagman rush into danger as well.”

Morse groaned. “Sir, I don’t need a bloody _babysitter._ I’m--”

“Still healing from a half decent beating,” Jakes interrupted. He couldn’t help it, that one still stung. There had been _no reason_ Morse had ended up on the wrong end of that particular collar.

Morse glared at him, but Jakes only smirked back.

“Morse,” Thursday growled. “There’s no arguing with this assignment, alright? You’ll do as good work for him as you did for me, understood.”

Morse looked mutinous, but he nodded. 

“Good.” Thursday straightened up. “Then, Detective Sergeant Morse, I would like to introduce you to your new governor, Detective Inspector Peter Jakes.”

Morse stared at Thursday blankly.

“Wh-what?” He turned towards Jakes, shock evident on his face.

“I did it, Dev.” Jakes voice was soft.

Realization dawned on Morse. He took a step forward, one hand outstretched to Jakes.

“Peter? You...you made Inspector?” When Jakes nodded, Morse flew at him, nearly tackled him to the ground with the force of his hug. “Congratulations! Why the _hell_ didn’t you tell me?”

Jakes managed to extricate himself, pushing Morse back far enough to grin at him. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Bloody hell, Peter--sir, you went along with--” Morse pauses suddenly, and that’s when Jakes realized.

Morse only understood _half_ of what Thursday said.

“Wait.” Morse glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Wait. Did you just...did you...am I...Peter?” Morse’s confused eyes finally landed on Jakes. “Peter?”

Jakes wrapped his arms around Morse, grateful that here, in Thursday’s private office, they could share this moment _like this._ They’d come a long way from that first moment Thursday _knew,_ and now it seemed natural to embrace Dev here. It was one of the very few bright spots in a world that seemed against men like them. 

“Be my bagman?” Jakes murmured.

Morse gaped at him. “Wh--Peter? What...I don’t…”

Jakes sighed. He brushed one hand across Morse’s forehead. “I’m tired of not knowing where you are. Tired of McNutt not paying enough attention to you. Hell, I’m tired of not being able to keep an eye on you.”

Morse still seemed lost. He glanced to Thursday, as if maybe he could make sense of this. “Sir?”

Thursday stepped back behind his desk. “You two always made a good team, Morse. Once you stopped trying to out do each other. I’d rather have you both as inspectors, but this...this seems like the best way to work with what we have.”

Morse’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “But...Peter? You.. _me?”_

Jakes rolled his eyes. “I picked you for quite a few other things, Dev. Why are you surprised I’d want you for this?”

Morse’s mouth finally snapped shut. “This is real.”

Thursday snorted. “I’d say so, lad.”

Morse glanced between Thursday and Jakes again, but this time it looked as if he was considering something far beyond this moment.

“We made it. We actually _made_ it. All three of us.” Icy blue eyes focused on Jakes, and Jakes _knew_ what he was talking about.

They’d survived corruption within their own nick, at least twice over. They’d survived gunshot wounds and beatings and kidnappings. They’d survived the repercussions of their own actions and those of others. And somehow the three of them were still standing here, together. Strange was out there too, a few steps ahead of them, but safe all the same. 

Jakes nodded. “We made it, Dev.”

A small smile spread across Morse’s face--it was a soft thing, honest and open and _rare._

Jakes lost his head--just a bit.

He usually tried to be more reserved with Thursday in the room, but he couldn’t help it. Those smiles of Morse’s went straight to his heart and made it hard to think.

He leaned forward and kissed Morse, oblivious to the snort of surprise that Thursday gave.

Jakes didn’t care. He had made it and nothing could take any of this from him, not now.

He felt _glorious._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *sigh* I'm sorry...I couldn't resist.  
> I'm working on another story that is set just after this, and my brain went _hey, lets write a prequel_ and I just...went with it. 
> 
> Anyhow...coming soon: the sequel, in which things _do not go so well._
> 
> Comments appreciated...I need as much dopamine as I can get in self-isolation. Stay healthy, y'all!


End file.
